Poison
by soggypotatoes
Summary: Alfred makes possibly the last mistake he'll ever make. Originally crack but turned more serious as it went along... could be perceived as either C: russia/america, rated M for lemons


**A/N: Firstly, if you read mind the gap, I am a horrible person for writing this instead of updating, but I will update soon I promise o_e**

**Also, this was inspired cause I read about two guys doing this in prison a while ago. Yeah, I am serious. Tragicly funny really.**

**Dedicated to my Germany, lie lightly. Read her stuff.**

**Warnings: hot man butt sex. Pretty much. That and possible OOCness... this entire thing was written in the early hours of the morning and I can't be stuffed to read over it properly.**

**Disclaimer: do not own jeffree star (yum) or hetalia. If I did rusame would be lurking around every corner. Like a jungle cat. Yeah.**

Alfred stood behind the counter, staring anxiously at the clock which was ticking away, closer and closer to the end of his work day. Usually he enjoyed working at his favourite fast food joint – McDonald's of course – being constantly surrounded by the alluring aromas of hamburgers and greasy fries was a small price to pay for the long hours. Plus, he could occasionally take some of the left overs home with him, an added bonus. Yeah, he loved where he worked in the best of times, but unfortunately today he just wanted to go home more than ever. Or, in a literal sense, he wanted so desperately to go to someone else's home.

Why, you say?

His hot, incredibly sexy "boyfriend" had invited him over for a special sleep over.

You may ask why the word "boyfriend" is accompanied with a pair of quotation marks. The reason for this is that Alfred just didn't know what exactly to call their relationship. You see, he was merely a poor, underprivileged mcDonald's worker who left school after year 10 and never went to university. He never had any incredible talents or such apart from his ability to eat and drink at the same time and to inhale both in record time, but those sorts of skills got you nowhere in life, sadly enough. He was mildly popular and had a lot of friends, but none of them tended to last long for some reason. Girlfriends seemed to go the same way. He was good to have a laugh with, get a drink, maybe a little mattress dancing afterwards, but that was just about it. The only people who had ever stayed around him for long were his brother... um... Mark was it...? Anyway, that blonde dude with the stuffed polar bear and his best friends Arthur and Kiku.

Who had, unfortunately, gone on in life to become mildly successful people; Arthur became an editor at a well renowned publishing company and Kiku was currently developing a video game, soon to be released into the world.

Whilst he had been left behind forever more.

That is, until one day when he was on cleaning duty he was getting alarmingly close to beating his record speed at mopping up the toilets when a tall, flustered man in an expensive looking suit ran right into him, knocking him clean off his feet. "I-I'm sorry sir, I-" he had stuttered before being rudely interrupted by the older pressing his lips against his, quickly shoving his tongue into his mouth before he had time to protest. Alfred's arms had been locked to his sides and his body was trapped under the bigger man's own. He had struggled to the best of his abilities at first, that is before he felt it.

The poison.

His head had begun to feel dizzy and light, his efforts to escape from the man's vice like grip dulled until he could hardly feel his body anymore. His face heated up and his eyes slid closed upon their own accord. The voice inside his head that had been frantically yelling for him to move had ceased into a background drone and he felt like he had lost control of his own body before he was released all too suddenly. Ivan had then preceded to his neck and collar bone, stripping him of his clothes as he did so.

Thus was the day Alfred lost his man-ginity to a rich bastard in a suit on the bathroom floor of his workplace.

Ivan had left in a hurry right afterwards, leaving Alfred to woozily scrape himself off the floor and face his angry boss. He had left that night in a dream, and had remained in that dream until two months later when he happened upon a certain individual on his way home. He called out to him, once, twice, three times before he was noticed. Ivan had simply smiled in pleasant surprise. He already knew what he was to the Russian by that time; just a guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time to be quickly shagged in a public bathroom which happened to be void of any other humanoid life form. Great timing, huh? In fact, some would call it fate.

From there Alfred had attempted several times to strike a conversation with the Russian, backfiring all his attempts to be on his way; after all, he was famous for having a way with words. He managed to be informed of his name, age, phone number and social status before he was finally brushed off.

Alfred had left Ivan to his own devices, returning home to allow himself to cry a little into his pillow. He had never felt more alone than he did on that night. He wasn't so dense as to be able to ignore the fact that he had fallen head over heels for the larger man that night; he didn't even know he was into guys until then, yet here he was, crying like a little school girl for the popular guy in school who had them shamelessly fucked then acted like they never even existed. He felt used to say the least. It's not like Ivan would ever call him, why would he? He had absolutely nothing to offer apart from mildly good looks and a non-existent gag reflex. Which, he must admit, is pretty damn useful. Just not in the way he needed it to be.

Two days of being stuck in a dreary, depressed slump inched by like a snail before he received a call from someone he never thought he would. Ivan Braginski was calling him – Alfred F. Completely-Useless Jones to come over and have "fun". It wasn't long before it became a regular thing: it was perfect, there were no feelings involved, no jealousy, no need to whisper sweet nothings into each other's ear or go on useless, boring dates, just pure mind blowing sex.

So after a sudden crash course on Alfred's entire love life, what would you say their relationship had become? They weren't romantically involved in any way apart from the obvious so they weren't exactly "lovers", the term "fuck buddies" seemed too juvenile, at least for Alfred, but who knew what went on in that Russian's head anyway? No, he didn't know what to call it.

It just was.

Alfred had no time to waste that day. The minute the clock struck eight he bolted out the door, still clad in his uniform, disappearing in a cloud of dust and completely ignoring his work mates who were calling after him. He had memorised his way to Ivan's back to front by now, just as he had memorised the Russian himself. The mere thought of his searing purple eyes and soft platinum hair made him turn up his speed a few notches as he began to run at the speed of White; and that's pretty damn fast let me tell you.

It took him exactly 2 minutes 78 seconds and four quarters to get to Ivan's place, where he put on the brakes so fast that he skidded right through the door, nearly giving poor Vanya a heart attack.

"You are paying for the damage da?" He grinned. Alfred's mouth split into a 100 watt smile as wide as the equator as he breifly considered just leaping into the other's arms and nuzzling him into extinction.

But that would be rude, so he didn't.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Trevor. So what's for dinner? I'm hungry!" Alfred casually brushed against the other's shoulder on his way into the kitchen. He grinned as he saw a waiting table ladled with matching bowls of borscht, pirozhki and a bottle of vodka to share.

((**borscht = ukrainian soup thingo that is vair popular in Russia, traditionally made with beetroot but can have meat or other vegetables like cabbage in it.**

**Pirozhki = little russian pie things. The ones I've seen, at least, were diamond shaped so these are too. Pretty much.**))

Ivan didn't answer as he watched the blonde plant himself at the table, salivating at the sight of food but knowing better than to start without him. He had fixed that annoying trait early in the relationship. Purposely taking his time, he carefully poured vodka into each of their glasses, making sure to stand a little too close to the american as he did so and, pleased to feel a welcome shiver run down his spine, sat opposite Alfred and held up his vodka glass. "Ura." He let out a rather preditorial grin before taking a sip of vodka, his eyes never leaving Alfred's as he did so. Alfred followed soon after, wincing a little at the strong taste.

((**ura = cheers C:**))

And then the games began.

Alfred made the first move, taking his time to slip almost half the spoon in his mouth, allowing his tongue to flit out and lick the base clean as he consumed his first spoonful of soup. "Mmmm," he moaned, "Ivan, your soup tastes so _good_." He slowly lead the utensil out of his mouth, making sure to dip his tongue into every curve as he did so, eventually leaving his mouth only to remain connected by a thin string of saliva which he broke by licking his lips, his eyes glazed over with a sultry expression.

Ivan shrugged, ignoring the way his pants had become rather uncomfortable after the show. His American had been practicing it seemed. With an expression almost on the verge on boredom he picked up a pirozhki from his plate and swirled his tongue around the tip, nibbling on it lightly. He half closed his eyes and allowed half of it to disappear slowly but surely into his mouth, feeling Alfred's keen eyes on him he fully shut his eyes and, grinning like a maniac, slipped the entire thing into his mouth and took barely any time to chew it before swallowing, giving a little moan as he licked his fingers clean, putting in one, two, three fingers into his mouth at once, thrusting them in and out to make sure they had no trace of stray food left on them whatsoever.

Opening one eye he smirked at Alfred's gaping mouth before letting his expression fall into one of concern. He reached out his wet fingers to touch the other's hand lightly. "Are you alright Alfred? You look a little hot..." His fingers trailed a path along his forehead, down his cheek and dipped into the curve of his collarbone, almost slipping into his shirt but stopping at the last second to return to their owner. "You do not feel like you have a fever. Although maybe I just need a closer look da...?"

This statement snapped Alfred out of his trance almost immediately. "N-No, I'm fine, just a bit hot in here ya know? Hahahaha..." He trailed off awkwardly. Sure, he was already half hard and wanted to just hump the Russian's brains out already, but this was all part of the game. Sure, he knew he would lose eventually, but the longer he stayed put the more mind blowing the actual sex would be.

Next, Alfred continued giving his spoon a blow job, this time going deeper than what should be humanely possible and giving Ivan a look that would melt stone, complete with dripping saliva, lidded eyes and a blush that put the very soup he was currently digesting to shame. As he was doing this, Ivan hooked his foot around the other's leg, brushing playfully against his thighs, but just outside the area that Alfred desperately wanted it to be. And that was driving him mad.

All of a sudden Ivan's foot made a brief but none too gentle connection with his lower regions making him take a sharp intake of breath before choking in a not-particularly-sexy way on the spoon still half way down his throat. He heaved violently, the metal item lodged in his oesophagus making it difficult to breath as he bent over the table, finally managing to hack up the spoon, now coated in saliva, a tinge of blood and some sort of unattractive slimy substance.

He breathed heavily, his face still deeply implanted into the table's surface. Who would ever want him after that? Not Ivan, definitely. He struggled not to let loose the tears prickling his eyes at the realisation that he was done for; the love of his life would hate him forever and ever and ever and most likely would not miss him in the least, I mean, a guy that hot could get anyone he wanted right? Nope, he was done for. Doomed to be forever trapped on a lonely island of solitude and-

His train of thought was interrupted by Ivan's laughter. Slowly he lifted his head from the table and stared in wide eyed fascination at the sight before him. In all of the four and a half months he and Ivan had "dated" he really wasn't sure if he had ever seen the other laugh like that before. His face was flushed and his hands clenched to his sides, the guy was actually, fully laughing. His body heated up with the thought of it, and not completely in arousal this time.

"Th-That was absolutely awful!" Ivan giggled, "You just fail at life in general, don't you?" He wiped a tear from his eye and, in one great leap, jumped onto the table and hoisted Alfred up to join him. "I think you need more practice at that, da? For now I will settle for a strip tease, but make it good or I will punish you and, trust me, you will _not _enjoy it this time."

Alfred wasn't too sure about that last part – he had been known to be a bit of a masochist after all – just like he wasn't too sure about why exactly they were currently standing on the table. But hey, Ivan will be Ivan...

After working off the rest of his remaining fit of giggles, Ivan promptly jumped off, dragging Alfred along behind him by the wrist, ignoring how he stumbled and nearly tripped at being pulled off so suddenly. He smiled as he was yanked into the bedroom. It had been a while since they had done it in here; usually they just couldn't be stuffed to walk all that way and screwed on the table, the couch, the floor or, god forbid, the sink.

Taking a seat against the headboard, Ivan smiled lazily, picked up the remote to the stereo at the other end of the room and clicked play, unaware of what would start playing. Which was why he instantly paled at the sound of an all too familiar Russian tune.

Alfred turned to stare, dumbstruck, at the stereo. "You... expect me to strip to that?"

"...I think you have been, ah, how do you say... trololol'd?"

This statement caused a facepalm from Alfred and an adorable giggle from Ivan, who quickly clicked next. Tetris? No... too fast and vibrant to be properly sexy... German Sparkle Party? What was that even doing here? No... he smiled as the next song came on. Lollipop Luxery, sung by the ever popular Jeffrey Star. That would work nicely. "Okay, go~"

Alfred rolled his eyes at the song choice before doing what he had learned to do whenever he was with Ivan; he shut off his brain, closed his eyes, and danced like he was the only person in the world.

And at that moment, he was.

He let his hips grind into something – or, that is, someone - that could only be seen by Alfred, was only felt by Alfred, was created solely by Alfred. He was the only person that mattered. His hands ran down his body, slipping into his shirt and caressing every inch of his upper body, undoing each button one by one from the inside as he allowed his bomber jacket to slip off his shoulders. Two fingers began to press and roll at one nipple, gasping as he did so. He bucked and swayed his hips in time with the music, twisting a little so Ivan would have a clear view of the black fabric stretched tight against his backside.

Once all the buttons on his shirt was undone, he didn't bother to take off the rest of the shirt, only letting it hang open carelessly. One hand trailed through his hair, mussing it up as it became sticky with sweat. Just the way his Vanya liked it.

Meanwhile, his other hand worked off his belt, giving a little shimmy as it slid off his lithe form, coiling onto the floor like a snake. The hand that was previously teasing his hair pushed agonisingly slowly into his pants to play with some of his other hair. His arousal was very obvious by now, straining to escape from its prison.

Popping the buttons of his trousers, he pulled the zipper down bit by bit, every click it made on the way going exactly in time with the music. By now his shirt had slipped down past his elbows, threatening to fall off any second.

This was the hard part. Carefully he spread his legs wide enough to keep his now wide open pants tight around his legs, hanging loosely around his hips but not quite enough so that his erection was just barely peeking out the top. Luckily he wasn't wearing any underpants or this would be a lot harder.

He casually clasped his hands behind his back, shrugging his shirt off inconspicuously and letting it fall to the floor. He opened one eye a slit and gave an almost preditorial smile as he saw Ivan roughly palming himself on the bed, eyes hungrily trained to the slit in his pants, tongue practically hanging out at the sight.

And then, he oh so slowly let his pants droop further and further down, revealing more and more of his "treasure" while running his hands greedily over every inch of newly revealed skin like he'd never felt it before. Gasping as finally his erection was fully exposed to the cold air, Alfred quickly covered it up all over again with his hands, massaging it with his palm. He let out a low, sultry moan, opening his lust darked eyes as slits to call out desperately for the man before him. "I-Ivan..."

That was the last straw for Ivan. He growled and yanked Alfred onto the bed by his wrists, the remainders of his pants falling off as Ivan grounded his clothed cock against Alfred, who mewled wantonly at the delicious friction.

Ivan then proceeded to get straight to business, shoving two regretfully unlubricated fingers inside Alfred, who whined in both pleasure and pain at the feeling. "N-No!" He whimpered, pushing at Ivan half-heartedly, "G-Gotta get l-lube!" Ivan growled at this interference.

"Nyet! No time!"

Alfred frowned and stuck his elbow between them, digging painfully into Ivan's ribs. Just because Alfred wasn't exactly bright it didn't mean he wasn't strong. "Where do you keep it?"

After a breif glaring match, Ivan rolled off Alfred and muttered into the pillow, "First drawer on the right of my desk. You have till the count of three." Alfred wasted no time in bounding across the room and ripping open the drawer.

"One..." 

Papers, papers, more useless papers, and- oh, there! Two near identical bottles lay side by side in the drawer. Damn... which was it?

"Two..."

Alfred had to squint to read the label; it was getting dark and he had lost his glasses somewhere in there... um... one read... ar... arse... arsenic. Okay. Must be a sort of Russian brand; Russian words usually had nik or something at the end of them didn't they?

"Three! Ready or not, here I come!"

Alfred grabbed the bottle and leapt back into the now naked Russian's arms, unscrewing the cap and pouring it over Ivan's fingers.

Something in the back of Ivan's head warned him that whatever his American was using for lube most definitely didn't feel right. Of course, in his lust infused state he completely ignored it and instead just shoved three now dripping fingers into Alfred's ass, pleased at the way the blond squirmed and groaned in response. Of course, they did this often enough that it didn't particularly hurt Alfred anymore, but that didn't mean it didn't still feel uncomfortable at first.

Ivan roughly thrust the fingers in and out of his ass, scissoring and twisting them around, searching for a special spot that he knew was there... He smiled cruelly as Alfred let out a high pitched cry, thrusting his hips forwards. There it was...

He leaned close so that their breath mingled, allowing his fingers to lightly brush the blond's prostate but not quite hitting it. "Alfred..." he whispered, "How much do you want me right now?"

Alfred forced his eyes open and craned his neck to lock eyes with Ivan, watery, clear blue with dark, possessive purple. This was how things always went. He would beg on his hands and knees if he had to and, without hesitation, would be thoroughly fucked into the mattress. They never made love; fucking is as far as their relationship would go and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Fuck me."

With a sadistic grin Ivan bowed his head and removed his fingers, enjoying the way Alfred's ass tried vainly to keep them inside. He tipped the rest of the "lube" onto his cock and hooked his hands around the back of the American's knees, pushing them over his shoulders so as to gain better access. Lucky he was so flexible.

In one solid movement, the Russian thrusted his erection all the way into Alfred to the hilt, moaning in unison to Alfred's cry as he was suspended in the moment for a split second, merely enjoying the tight heat that envoloped his dick. "Alfred..."

"M-Move!" The blond squeaked, attempting to impale himself further onto Ivan, who obliged by pulling out to the head, the muscles clinching around him as he did so, only to thrust all the way back in again. This time he didn't bother to linger, pulling back out half way and pushing back in at the same pace. He picked up speed as he went, always wanting more of that warmth, that heat that he had grown so used to lacking. Alfred was whimpering and moaning for him to go faster, to fuck him deeper. He was now pushing in balls deep, leaning down to bite down on the blonde's neck until he drew blood when Alfred screamed as he hit his prostate. He positioned himself so that he would now be hitting his special spot with every thrust, reaching down with one hand to swiftly pump the other's cock in time with his thrusts until he felt the American clinch around him and cry out his name as he came, Ivan following not long after.

They lay there for a moment, each catching their breath before the Russian pulled out of him, laying on his side and smiling slightly as he felt Alfred's arms wrap themselves around him, not bothering to stop them. He heard the other's breath even out as he fell asleep and turned to cup his head against his chest, gently kissing the top of his head before allowing himself to do the same.

Ivan was woken by a searing pain in his lower regions. He grunted and tried shifting his position. The pain was increasing by the second and it felt like his dick was on fire, let alone the nails currently digging painfully into his chest. He looked down to see that Alfred's face was screwing up in pain, biting his bottom lip so hard that there were small trails of blood making their way down his chin. It looked like he was trying desperately not to make any noise. "A-Alfred?"

The blonde cried out. "A-Ah! I'm sorry! I didn't w-want to wake you b-but... HOLY FUCK MY ASS IS BURNING." He then proceeded to scream out every curse word known to human kind.

"I-I feel it too..." Ivan grunted. He resisted crying out like Alfred was doing, as much as he wanted to; he knew that that wouldn't help anyone in the current situation.

"Alfred... what exactly did you use for lube last night?" He growled, eyes narrowing. God knew he had a lot of various substances that he shouldn't have and it was pretty dark in there... it wouldn't exactly be diffucult to accidentally... oh shit.

Eyes widening with sudden realisation he fumbled around the sheets trying to find a small glass bottle, praying that he would instead be met with a tube of lubricant. His fears were confirmed, however, when he found the dreaded object underneath his pillow labeled "Arsenic".

"We're doomed..." he muttered.

"What?" Alfred whimpered, his eyes beginning to water.

"We... we're... you..." Ivan gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying fruitlessly to push his rage down as far as possible. It was a mistake. Alfred had made a simple mistake, nothing to be stressed out about... absolutely nothing...

"Ivan..." Alfred said in a small, shaky voice, "Are we going to die?"

And that was when he snapped. Letting out a blood curdling battle cry he lunged towards Alfred, smashing the bottle of arsenic on the ground as he did. The blonde's eyes widened, struggling under Ivan's grip as hands wrapped themselves around his neck. "I-Ivan..." 

"YOU USED ARSENIC FOR LUBE. FUCKING ARSENIC. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THE FUCK YOU HAVE JUST DONE?"

Alfred's eyes were beginning to bulge, his face reddening and his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as he gasped for air. His struggles were becoming futile, weakening drastically as his vision blurred and darkened, head pounding and lungs screaming.

"Ivan... p-please!" He choked out. The tears were in full blast now, streaming down his face as his hands grasped uselessly for Ivan's.

At hearing Alfred's plea the Russian looked up and caught himself in the American's eyes, sky blue and wet with tears. Tears that he had caused. Him. If it weren't for him Alfred would be smiling, happy, radient. He brought this upon them.

His grip relaxed and he instead sat back on his heels, burying his head in his hands. He was an awful person... he should've turned Alfred down that first night then none of this would have happened...

"I-Ivan...?" Alfred sat at the opposite end of the bed, eyes wide and watering, hands desperately massaging the blood back into his swelling neck. Part of him wanted to go and comfort the Russian, yet the other just wished to run away and hide out of shame and fear. The two notions argued with each other while he sat frozen on the bed, unblinking.

But then one of Ivan's hands moved away from his face to brush away the fresh tears trickling down his cheek and Alfred's mind was made up.

Without a word the blonde reached over and pulled Ivan into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling his head into the crook of the Russian's neck.

"Alfred, don't-" 

"Before you say anything," Alfred interrupted, "I might as well say this seeing as we're gonna die anyway." He took a deep breath, inhaling the other's scent as reassurance. His heart pounded and he felt nautious, his backside still throbbing with pain. "I, um... I love you."

There were a few moments of silence in which nothing took place save the pair's heavy breathing. _Say something... please, Ivan, say anything... _Alfred's eyes were squeezed shut as he tried in vain to focus on the man in his arms rather than the ever more increasing pain making its way further up from his ass.

Ivan numbly gripped Alfred's arms and began to push him away. The other was limp; he didn't bother putting up any resistance. He allowed his eyes to gaze into the pair of barely open blue ones and brushed away a tear with his thumb. "Izvinite... sorry... but..."

"You don't have to say it." Alfred murmured, turning his head away dully. "You could have anyone you wanted, I'm just a place you can stick your dick in without any obligations and I'm fine with that... I just hate that I... that I... that I'm the one responsible for your death, you know? I just... I'm so..." Alfred cried out and doubled over on the bed, clutching his belly which was now searing.

Ivan gritted his teeth, using all his strength to thoroughly ignore his own pain and instead took Alfred up in his arms again, holding him tightly to his chest. "You're so warm... like the sun... moy podsolnechnik... I love you too."

They then made out while writhing in agony and died in each other's arms the end.

**A/N: **

**-got lazy-**

**BUT SERIOUSLY, WHAT WAS THAT. I DON'T EVEN-**

**yeah that was meant to be pure crack. CRACK PEOPLE. This always happens... -sigh-**

**but yeah, I know it's pretty unrealistic, I mean "HEY I'LL JUST GO IN THIS MCDONALDS HERE AND OH, THERE'S A CUTE BLONDE CLEANER PERSON, HOW ABOUT I JUST FUCK HIM WHILE I'M HERE HURHUR" but you know, it's ivan. Who knows what's going on in this crazy head of his C:**

**but yeah that ending seemed kinda corny to me... but idk, whatever trevor.**

**REVIEW PEOPLE. Reviews make me so happy that I start playing my piano -is part austrian- and hey, I might actually be bothered to finish writing my version of marukaite chikyuu. Not that you care about that... but anyway THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS review. I like caps lock. Derp.**


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